Pieces
by alltimelowlover
Summary: Literati. No one ever said love was easy.
1. I tried to be perfect

Title: Pieces (Chapter Titles are from 'Pieces' by Sum 41)

Disclaimer: I own zip zero nadda (nothing)

A/N: This is my first fan fic. Feedback and reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy...

They fight often. Mostly about obscure subjects, like whether or not she can memorize all of his social acquaintance's names. She doesn't love him, deep down she knows this. But Derek's comfortable, he's safe. She likes structure, this is how she works. He's charming and handsome, good at small talk and easy to like. And of course rich and cut right from Yale's fields. Her grandparents wouldn't have it any other way.

Often times she'll come to visit. At least twice a week. He lives in a small apartment on the outskirts of New Haven. She thinks it's an odd place for him to live and she can not help but think she had something to do with it. He thinks she's right. He works at the bookstore not more than 5 blocks away. It doesn't pay as much as he'd like, but sometimes he reminds himself, he must make personal sacrifices for happiness. He likes books, and he likes being by her.

When she visits, he's calm and happy. He even cleans up for her, she notices and comments on it. He doesn't care, he'd do anything to have her smile like that. He bets that not even _Derek_ can make her smile like that. On some nights they'll walk to the park and sit on a bench. He'll tell her stories of snobby rich kids looking for books and she'll giggle. She'll tell him about her uptight roommates and he'll smirk. They'll watch the stars. Actually, she watches the stars and he watches her. He thinks she's the most beautiful creature he's ever laid eyes on. Her hair is shoulder length, and curves around her soft, pink cheeks. Her eyes sparkle every time she laughs, and her lips (don't get him started on her lips) make him wonder what's it's like to be able to kiss her everyday.

They people watch in comfortable silence, as an elderly couple, still in love after all these years, walks past them. Sometimes he imagines her with him twenty years down the road. They live in the suburbs, with two kids, a boy and a girl. She writes editorials in the newspaper, while he's a book critic. They spend their days leisurely at home. He's happy and she's always smiling in his dream. Oh, anything to have her smile. But then a balloon pops or a dog barks and he snaps back to reality. Where she's not more than an inch away yet he can't even touch her. He can't even hold her and tell her how he really feels. Because he's not that kind of guy. He has to be mysterious and hide everything. Otherwise he wouldn't technically be Jess Mariano.

He walks her to her car, which is parked, promptly outside his apartment. He wants to ask her to stay. He swears he's changed. She can count on him now. Doesn't she know this is all for her? But he can't ask her, it would never happen. He knows it; she thinks it. All it is, is wasted air. She smiles at him.

"Thank you," she says.

"For what?" he asks.

She smiles (god that smile) and reply, "For everything."

Two words two thousand meanings. He nods, slightly understanding. She's not happy where she is, he's her only escape. In her world he can do no wrong. He likes it this way.

"No problem," he says to her.

He doesn't want her to leave. And she's still just standing in front of him. But then she turns to open her door. And just as suddenly turns back towards him. She's fidgeting with her keys again.

"Jess….I…" she starts, but he hardly lets her. He places his index finger over her lips. He reaches for her waist and pulls her towards him, expecting her to pull away. But she doesn't and he's thankful. He leans down to kiss her and she meets him halfway. She tastes sweet and perfect. She feels wonderful, she fits perfectly into his body and he doesn't want to let her go. She pulls away. Their bodies are electrified.

She follows him up to the apartment. She's almost like a giggly fourteen year old girl. He fumbles for his keys. He's almost like a goofy fourteen year old boy. He pushes open the door and leads her through the doorway. She slams the door and pours herself into him. She drapes her body into his, her hands on the nape of his neck and his hands on the small of her back. She falls into him. He's been waiting forever for this. She leads him towards the bedroom and suddenly the thought of leaving totally escapes her mind.

She can not but help talk of Jess to him. He is not half the man Jess is and probably never will be. He will have money, that's a fact, but he will never have true heart. The lust and love faded long ago, back in their freshman year. They're meeting was an arrangement, almost like her life. Her grandmother, always up to no good, set them up. She had giggled and blushed at him. He had been impeccably charming and for goodness sakes it had only been the first date and already her grandparents were sending out the invitations. They shared a deep passion of literature, she enjoyed reading it, and he enjoyed trashing it. He had grown up in a childhood bathed in money. He threw diamonds and gold at her. Thousand dollar designer dresses and handbags. Yes, they were all very nice indeed, but when asked what she wanted for her birthday she replied a hand made poem. He had laughed at her, tears streaming from his eyes. She was hurt and he didn't catch on. It was inconsiderate times like these when she would quietly excuse herself from the dinner table and head to the bathroom. From there she would sit in the bathtub and call Jess. He would answer his phone expecting some jackass from work or at least hope for a wrong number. Then he would hear her voice, and the tears behind it and it would take ever fiber in his body to not run all the way to Hartford and beat the shit out of him.

Lately their relationship had reached a standstill. Derek interns at the local law offices. He will of course, at graduation time, receive a full-time job there. It's inevitable and he wouldn't have it any other way. He works long hours. Busy most of the time with legal documents and such. He hardly thinks about her, but when he does, he aches for her badly. He does love her. But he doesn't _need _her. This is all part of the process. It is expected. He is to marry a socialite like himself, and she has the perfect mix of charm, intelligence and class. In his eyes her dreams that she sometimes lets escape to him, are just that: dreams. To him, she will never travel to Europe reporting overseas events. In his world she would stay at home, preparing for the parties his law firm would throw on behalf of a new client. And she would wait at home for him, exhausted from a long days work, and shower him with affection, love and bedroom time.

He often wonders about some of her friends. She's never let him into her world. He's never visited the fairy tale City of Stars Hollow, he's only met her mother twice, in their 3 and a half years of dating. And then there is Jess. She talks about him constantly, often times these monologues of hers are accompanied by a smile. He's not stupid. He knows that smile, he used to be able to make her smile like that. But he knows she's comfortable with him now. Jess would become a distant memory after graduation. He would make sure of it.


	2. But nothing was worth it

He's playful with her. She lies in his bed, fully clothed underneath the sheets. He has everything but a shirt on and he's rolled onto his side staring at her. Her eyes are closed and it's evident she wants some sleep. But he's not willing to give it to her. God, she's beautiful he thinks to himself. He reaches up to a stray strand of hair and gently puts it back into place. She opens her eyes slowly and then she flutters back to sleep. He smiles and falls back onto the bed onto his back. But she cuts in:

"Jess," she says.

He mumbles something. She knows him well enough to know that this is the type of answer to expect.

"I'm hungry," she says.

He smirks to himself, not letting her see how cute he thinks she really is.

"That's nice," he says to her.

He sees her arm come out from under the covers and hit him playfully.

"Whoa, there killer," he says.

She sits up, cross-legged, facing him. She pouts at him. Oh she's good, very good. He almost falls for it.

"Do you have any food?" she asks him.

He shakes his head, "No," he replies.

She smiles and hits him again. This time it really hurts but he's not about to let her know it.

"Grilled Cheese Sandwich?" she asks him, giving him an innocent look.

"Sure thanks, that sounds great," he says.

She grabs the pillow and flings it at his head. She does it again and again until he finally gives in.

"Alright, alright," he says throwing his arms up in defeat. "You're so spoiled."

She smiles coyly at him. "I know," she says.

"Two grilled cheese sandwiches coming up," he says as he lifts himself out of bed and makes his way out the door to the kitchen.

"Oh?" she says. "So what are you going to eat then?" she calls after him.

He reappears in the doorway. This time armed with couch pillows. He begins the warfare and she forgets all together ever being hungry.

x.x.x

They go out hardly, kiss rarely and are intimate never. When she does kiss him all she tastes is guilt. The taste feels bitter in her mouth. She wants to leave him. She really does. But she knows she can't'. There are too many things standing in their way. She should have gotten out when she had the chance, now there's really no turning back. Every time she thinks about breaking it off, pictures of grandparents and dinner parties pop into her head. She would be disappointing too many people. Not that Derek isn't a good boyfriend. He is. But when he touches her, her pulse doesn't jump and her heart never skips. He comes to her dorm constantly after interning, to find her gone. He never knows exactly where she goes and when she comes back, she fidgets and makes horrible excuses. She apologizes for her behavior. He always forgives her. Their conversation is forced. They often sit in awkward silence.

She tells him about her day (usually the edited version). And he goes on about the other lawyers and his new client. She finds him boring (they're so young, it's not supposed to get boring yet). She realizes this is the rest of her life.

x.x.x

When they fight, it's usually dramatic. She has an amazing way of throwing everything completely out of proportion and he has an astounding way of taking it personally. They yell and scream at each other (she wouldn't have it any other way) and she slams the bathroom door right in his face. She doesn't cry though, she can't. He makes her too happy, usually. Then she'll slowly creep out from her hiding place.

"Jess," she says to him. "I'm sorry."

He wraps his arms around her and she breathes into him. He smells wonderful. Fight is over and making up is oh so nice.

x.x.x

She likes watching TV at his apartment, there's something about static in the middle of her news that she enjoys. Maybe it's because it reminds her of home. The real home, Stars Hollow. Derek has thousands of channels but nine times out of ten she opts for Jess's version of cable. Sometimes when they're both sitting there watching the news, she thinks to herself, she can do it. She can tell him, that she's breaking it off with Derek. I want to be with you, she'll say. They never say those three little words. Never out loud, not since they dated in high school. She doesn't like bringing up the past because he doesn't like to talk about it. That's when their fights begin and often they last for days. But after a while she chickens out, knowing it's all a dream.

He loves holding her. She fits perfectly with him. He wishes he could hold her forever. And if she lets him, he will. They don't talk about the future. It's too painful for him. He knows that what they have is temporary. As much as she tries to fight it, she will always be drawn into Derek's world. He knows the drill. Graduation then a long summer in Europe with Derek, then when they come back Derek will propose. It's inevitable. She doesn't realize it and one night in the midst of a fight he let it slip and she called him crazy and insecure. But he knows it, hating himself, wishing that it was only him being insecure but still knowing he can't stop the inevitable.


	3. I dont believe it makes me real

She decides to say it out loud one day. She doesn't know why she picks today. Or why she even feels compelled to say it but she wants to. It's a warm June afternoon and her graduation ceremony is weeks past. Maybe it's the thoughts of future that sparks her curiosity or perhaps it's just the heat.

"I'm breaking up with Derek," she says nonchalant as if it's meaningless to him and for all she knows it could be.

He pauses to look at her. He thinks she might be fucking with him and if she is he doesn't think it's very funny. But the look on her face is genuine.

"Oh," he says.

He doesn't mean to say it and immediately he regrets his words.

"I didn't mean that," he says, as he hears sniffles from her direction.

"What I mean," he says, "Is why?"

She ponders his question thoughtfully. She knows the answer, but she's afraid to say it. He knows the answer and he wants to hear it.

"…You," she stammers.

At this point she's too vulnerable and he's flooded with emotion. The pain that he had endured ever since she showed up into his life released from his body. His heart beats faster and he almost gets choked up. He grabs her from her sitting position on the couch and lifts her into his arms. He carries her, like a newlywed couple, threw the threshold of the bedroom door. She places kisses all over him. And he places her down gently onto the bed. She pulls him down playfully beneath her.

"I just want this," she says.

He gives her a questioning look.

"I want us, you and me, this crummy old bed, this small cramped up apartment, that static box we call a television. This is what I want, this is what I need," she says.

He almost crumples underneath her in happiness. His brooding bad boy "I don't give a fuck" image is about to take a turn for the good.

x.x.x

"…and then he shouted 'that's not chicken it's duck!"

Rory's smile hardens into a crisp laugh. The gentleman laughs himself, pleased he has told such a pleasant joke. Of course she has no idea what the punch line means. Her mouth is aching though from all the smiling. So she takes a sip of her drink. To her, these things are unbearable. Death trips high on Champagne. The old man sensing no new stories coming from her mouth, jumps right back in with another of his.

"So did you ever hear about the one with the priest and…"

But he can't finish it because Derek slips his arm around her waist. Pleasantly smiling at the old man. The man recognizing Derek stops and puts out his hand.

"My dear boy, Derek Humphrey, how are you?" he asks.

Derek reaches back to shake his hand.

"I'm terrific," he replies. "How are you, Mr. Smithes?"

The old man chuckles, "Oh my you don't have enough time to hear about my poor old heart condition."

Derek laughs and so does Rory, both fakes.

"Well I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Smithes, but if you will excuse me I think Ms. Gilmore's grandparents are searching for her," Derek says.

Rory and the old man exchange pleasantries and as soon as Derek spins her around heading towards the doors, she unclenches her smile and let's her jaw hang. Derek smiles at this, she's being dramatic of course, but it's cute.

"Thank you," she says as he leads her outside.

He nods to her, and then he sighs.

"I'm sorry," he says.

His confession startles her and she is speechless, unsure of where he is heading.

"I haven't been exactly the best boyfriend these past couple weeks. I've been under constant pressure and while that's no excuse, I think we've become distant," he says.

She nods, of course they have, she thinks.

"So I just wanted to say that I hope things will be able to get back to normal very soon," he says to her cupping her chin in his hands.

She nods because that's all she can do. She wants to tell him _Hey Derek I'm breaking up with you; it's not going to work out Ok? Bye. _But she can't bring herself to speak those words. He sighs again and removes his hands from her face. He paces in front of her, making her nervous. Then he stands in front of her again. She thinks it's time to say it. The words are slowly forming in her mouth and she's finally gaining some confidence.

"Rory, I have something to ask you," he says. "Rory, I love you so very much. From the moment I met you I knew that I wanted to be with you the rest of my life. Please do me the honor of being my bride?"

And finally the words and confidence are shot to hell. Her head is spinning, she thinks it's a joke. No, she hopes it's a joke. But she knows it's not. Just say No, she tells herself. It's your life, your decision.

"I've already asked your grandfather and grandmother's permission. I also phoned your father and he gave his consent. He said that he's very happy for us," he tells her.

And then any last glimpse of hope she had, that she could back, out was gone.

"Of course Derek," she tells him, not really believing her words.

He smiles and pulls the ring out of his pocket. He slips it onto her finger and frowns when he finds it's much too big for her. It's a sign of course. One, that she doesn't fit into his life and two, that he doesn't care enough to even see if the ring fits her.

He pulls her into a kiss. She no longer tastes guilt, now it's just resentment.


	4. I thought it'd be easy

She's late. He knows, he's been watching the clock. A little too intently. She said she was going to do it tonight, after the party. He thinks she'll come in; crying and he'll comfort her. She's too nice sometimes; she'll probably go on about how she ruined his life by breaking up with him and how much he resents her now. And all the while Jess will smirk. He smiles just picturing Rory deserting Derek.

He thinks everything will be easier now. He hopes it will. He loves her. He thinks it's the fact that she can make him feel so extraordinary. She can make him feel a million different emotions at the same time.

She breaks his thoughts by walking in solemnly. He looks at her and he wants to comfort her.

"Hi," she says.

"Hey," he replies.

She looks at her feet. She doesn't even know why she's there. Oh yea, she's supposed to come back to say that now they can be together. He bounces almost happily off the couch and reaches out for her. His arms encircle her waist and he kisses her gently on her forehead. Then his lips run across hers. He steps back from her.

"I guess I can do that now," he says to her smiling.

She smiles timidly. She's holding back and he knows it. He reaches out for her hand. And then he notices it. It's actually hard not to. He feels it on her hand and then looks at it. He stares at it. He looks at her, and the tears start flowing.

"I'm sorry," she says to him.

He drops her hand. He's disgusted.

"No you're not," he says calmly.

She buries her head in her hands.

"You don't' understand," she says to him. Almost yelling.

The anger rises in him.

"So when's the date? Ole' Derek boy probably wants a nice fall wedding maybe late summer?" he says sarcastically.

"Stop it," she whispers.

"Oh come on Rory, you knew this was coming. You're a big girl now. You've got the ring on your finger you obviously want this. It is your life; you can say no if you want to. But you don't," he says angrily.

The tears keep falling from her beautiful eyes and he wants to reach out and take all the pain away, but he won't.

"Jess, I'm sorry," she says.

It's all she can say.

"Rory, I think you should go," he says.

She looks at him carefully and he looks at her tear-stained cheeks and still finds her gorgeous. He has to turn his back to her, just so he won't break down in front of her.

"Jess…" she starts.

"Rory, don't," he says, finality in his tone.

She turns on her heel, sniffling as she reaches for the door and slams it hard behind her.

He's left alone, not just for today, or tomorrow. The rest of his life will be lonely. The thought of it kills him. Tonight he'll drink, until he forgets all about her.

x.x.x

She thinks she's dead. Her whole existence is a joke. This isn't her life. Oh, but it is. They plan for a summer wedding. She likes flowers; he just wants to get it over with. His firm has already accepted him as a new partner. The house, excuse me – mansion, has been bought. Her grandparents can't stop smiling. And yet she isn't the least bit happy. She makes due with what little happiness she does have. She has her books. Though most of the good ones are still at Jess's apartment. Somehow she just can't bring herself to go back there. She's almost sure he doesn't want to see her face again.

She stays in a small apartment in Hartford until the wedding. Not that she hasn't been intimate with Derek. She has, it's just she'd rather not have her grandparents think she's been living in sin. He visits her every night after work. They sit together in silence, as she thinks this is the rest of her life. A lifetime of awkward silence and now, regret.

x.x.x

She waits for his arrival one night, almost agonizing at the thought that she would have to do this every day of her life. He knocks on the door and she opens it. Only she doesn't find him.

"Jess," she says, stating the obvious.

"Hi," he says to her.

He's carrying a box. She motions for him to come in and he does. She shuts the door behind him and he places the box on the bed.

"I…uh…I just came by to drop off some of your stuff," he says.

"How did you know I was here?" she asks him.

"Derek."

"Oh."

"He, uh, came by the apartment the other day and gave me an invitation; he said that he didn't know if you had already given me one. I guess he doesn't know about us –"

"No, he doesn't know."

He nods his head.

"Ok well here's your stuff if there's anything missing you know where to find me," he says.

He moves to leave, but she stops him with a hug. She wraps her arms around him and he doesn't shake her off. She pulls back from him.

"I don't want things to end this way for us," she says.

He just looks down, not knowing exactly what to say.

"Can we be friends? At least?"

He looks back up at her and sighs ,"Of course."

"Then Jess, please promise me you'll be at the wedding."

He stares at her intently. He hates himself right now.

"I'll be there."

She hugs him again, taking in his cologne. He leaves and for once, when Derek's there, she smiles.


	5. But no one believes me

"Jess?"

He turns around at the sound of his own name.

"Jess, it's Derek."

Damn it, why did he have to turn around?

"Hey," he says.

He thinks of all the places to be the most safe, he can't even go to the bookstore without running into someone he hates.

"Listen Jess, I wanted to ask you something," he says.

God I hope he's not going to propose to me, Jess thinks to himself.

"I know that we haven't exactly gotten to know each other how we might have liked to and I know we're not the best of friends. But I know that you're one of Rory's best friends so I wanted to know if you would be one of my groomsmen?"

His mind went into a short lapse and for a moment he couldn't think. Hopefully his ears were playing tricks on him and he didn't hear what he _really _said. But Jess guessed he had heard him right. How could this asshole even think for a second that he would want to be one of his groomsmen? Shit he didn't even want to be at the wedding, let alone _in_ the wedding.

"I know it would mean a lot to Rory."

He wants to hit him. Give him a great big fucking black eye right before the wedding, just because. He had to bring her into it. He could have just said no before and just pissed Derek off but now he'd be hurting Rory, the one thing he really didn't want to do.

"Ya, sure."

Derek smiles at him and Jess would have done anything at that point to rip that stupid smirk off of his face. But instead he walks off and without so much as a good bye and leaves Derek all alone.

x.x.x

Sometimes he's so suffocating, she feels like dying is the only solution. Other times she wishes he would just touch her, but he doesn't. She knows that this is right for her. Everyday she reminds herself, this is what you want, it's what you need. Derek's a good guy, he'll treat you right, and he won't up and leave you like some people.

When she hears that Derek has asked Jess to be one of his groomsmen she's torn. She doesn't know how she feels yet about being close to him, she doesn't know if Derek is just being nice for once or a prick. Her mother tells her it's out of kindness. Lorelai hasn't realized yet, if she needs to like Jess or hate him. She hasn't even decided that about Derek.

x.x.x

Four nights before the wedding she drives by his apartment. She stops in front and parks. She walks out and she wants to go up so badly. Just to tell him everything. If she calls he'll be sure to hang up and if she writes him he most likely won't open it, because he's just too stubborn. She has to do this face to face there's no other way. It takes all the will power she has not to run right back out of the building into her car and drive home. She knocks on the door lightly. She hears a grumble from inside. He opens the door and they're standing barely six inches apart.

"Hi," she says.

"Hey," he mumbles back.

Silence.

"Did you know that on the Got Milk? Ads that's not really milk it's paint-"

"Rory…"

"Can you imagine having to smile for like an hour while someone takes picture of white paint on your upper lip-"

"Rory!"

She stops rambling.

"You wanna come in?" he asks her.

She nods suddenly feeling very shy and stupid. He shuts the door behind her as she leads her way into his living area. It's bigger, she never really remembered it being this big. She thinks that maybe she's gotten smaller. He stands next to her, hands shoved deep into his pockets, hair as unruly as ever. The sight of him makes her heart jump; it hasn't jumped like that since…

"So…" he says.

She turns around to look at him again.

"Oh yea, I almost forgot," she says.

She takes a step towards him and wraps her arms around his neck. She hugs him, a little too tightly for friends and then let's go. Jess's hands don't leave his pockets. There's an awkward silence that goes around the room. It almost makes her shiver. It reminds her of Derek.

"Rory," he stops her thoughts. "Why are you here?"

She pauses for a moment.

"Do I really need a reason?" she asks him.

She doesn't know if she asked for a true meaning or whether she just wants to get a rise out of him.

"Rory, in like less than a week you're going to be married," he says, as if it answered the question quite clearly.

She's fumbling with her keys again. And he realizes she's nervous. And then she chickens out. Again.

"I just wanted to make sure that you knew what time the rehearsal dinner was," she says to him, not meeting his eyes.

"You could have called me instead of driving all the way out here to tell me."

"It's not that far."

He just nods.

"Well, it's at 6 at Andamo's Restaurant. All the bridesmaids and groomsmen have to be there…It's formal," she says.

"I know, Rory. Is there anything else you need to tell me? Anything else you came here for?"

She can do it. I miss you, she thinks. She can tell him. Do it. Do it. Do it. Tell him! Tell him! And then words slip from her lips.

"You have my Hemingway."

"Oh, OK."

He turns to go inside his room, normally she would follow him. But she doesn't think it's proper for her to be in there with him anymore. He comes out with a book in his hands and gives it to her. She doesn't even check to see what the title is. She didn't come here for the stupid book. She thanks him and turns to leave. She figures a hug would be unwelcome and a kiss would be out of the question.

"Oh, by the way," she says as she turns back towards him, "Derek wanted to know if you'll be able to make it to his bachelor party."

"Tell him I'll be there."

She smiles faintly and leaves. The world looking a whole lot bigger.


	6. I meant all the things I said

"…and from the second I saw these two lovebirds together I knew, that they would spend the rest of their lives dedicated to each other. Rory and Derek, I wish you a lifetime of happiness."

The whole room claps. A few minor tears are shed and the couple is smiling. One is real, the other forced. Derek stands up, a full _real_ smile on his face.

"Thank you all for coming, we appreciate your gracious blessings and of course your presents," he says with a smile as he raises his glass.

The audience chuckles and grins at his joke. Jess just scoffs.

"No really, in all seriousness, Rory and I really appreciate all of you coming and we hope you enjoy the wonderful meal. Thank You," he says.

He sits down and puts his arm around her chair. He whispers something into her ear. She chuckles. He can be funny sometimes. Jess sees this. He's huddled in a corner stuck at a table with two couples. One is a young obviously newlywed couple. They're fighting they won't even look at each other. Jess sees it as the future Mr. and Mrs. Derek Humphrey. The other couple is elderly, the woman has rank perfume and the man has a too obvious toupee.

Dinner is enjoyable but not memorable. Servers dance around, happily doing every ridiculous request made by the snobby dinner guests. Jess watches the couple out of contempt. She's doing her best to try and look thankful and happy. He realizes truly for the first time he really isn't good enough for her and even if he tries he would never be. He's disgusted with himself. He doesn't want this fucking champagne, he wants some hard liquor. He gets up, throwing his napkin onto the table. He reaches the bartender.

"A shot," he says gruffly, his eyes still on her.

"Of what, sir?" the bartender asks.

"Anything," he snaps.

The bartender nods, understanding.

He takes the drink and flips his head back as he pours the substance downs his throat. He brings his head back and places the glass on the table. The drink burns his throat. He's used to it. He likes it, it makes him feel good.

"Another sir?" the bartender asks.

Jess nods, still not taking his eyes off Rory. She eats her food quietly. Derek's off talking shop with his fellow colleagues but she is a Gilmore and everyone knows Gilmores need to eat. She wonders if he even bothered to show up. She feels a pair of eyes on her. She looks up and sees him looking intently back at her. He's learning over the bar, throwing back shots of God knows what. Their eyes fixate on each other and for a moment she forgets where she is. It's a challenge. The weaker one will look away first. Suddenly a hand grabs her waist and she looks behind her. Damn it, she thinks.

"You ok, baby," Derek asks.

_Baby? _Who was he trying to kid? She looks back over at the bar, but he's gone.

"I'm fine, I just think I need some fresh air," she tells him.

She moves out from in front of him and snakes her way through the tables and out the side door. She finds him out there. He's pulling out a cigarette.

"I thought you quit," she says.

He glances up at her.

"I did."

He puts the cigarette back into his pocket. It's no use, he has no lighter. He looks at her again. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, and her strapless dress hangs loosely off of her, hitting right above the knee. Her shoulders are bare, and he notices she has a lot more makeup on than usual. She's lost some weight. He wants to tell her to eat more, but he doesn't really have that authority anymore.

"Nice party," he says.

She's quiet. He really means it; she thinks it's just one of his smart ass remarks. She's only partly right.

"It's late. I should probably be going," he tells her.

She doesn't want him to leave. He's probably the only one who can make these social gatherings tolerable.

"Ok. I'll call a taxi for you," she says.

"Rory, don't worry about it. The restaurant will call one for me."

She grins slightly at her own naivety. She is still getting used to how this whole life works. Another sign.

"Alright, well I hope you get to the hotel safely," she says.

There's an underlying meaning in this response. He knows what it is.

"Me too."

x . . x

He hates the fact that the minibar doesn't have anything good. He hates that he has to sleep in a hotel that Derek, himself paid for. Jess cusses under his breath. Thinking about Derek will only make him drink more. He doesn't know why, but for some reason that night, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. And that night as he fell sleep, he dreams of her.

He wakes up with a bad headache. In his head he tries to remember the date. Saturday or Sunday maybe. Sometime around there. He looks at the clock. It's Saturday at noon. What's on Saturday, he thinks to himself. There's something he just knows it. Bachelor Party…_great_. That's all he needs to see is Derek with more girls all over him.


	7. If you believe it’s in my soul

"Shut Up!"

By now she's flat out drunk. Well maybe she's not. He's never really seen her act this way. Perhaps she's just tipsy and in a great mood.

"I'm not doing anything," he says.

She frowns for a second and then lifts herself off of the edge of the bed. She comes up to him and puts a finger to her mouth.

"Shhhh….I won't tell any-body," she says.

To him she smells heavenly. Her own perfume mixed with hard liquor. She smells strongly of vodka.

"Ok, I think you need to sit down," he says leading her down to an armchair.

But she won't go down without a fight.

"I don't need to sit! I need to stand!" she says flinging herself back up.

He gives up. She looks out at the balcony and pushes open the sliding door, taking his wrist, she walks out onto the balcony. They both sit on the patio furniture in silence.

"Why are you here? You should be sleeping this off," he tells her.

"All the other girls are too drunk and my mom left early."

"Oh."

More silence.

"How - was it," she asks hiccupping.

"Not bad."

"Did you have fun?"

"Are you trying to get at something?"

"It's a simple question."

"With a thousand different meanings," he adds.

More Silence.

"You never answered my question," she says.

"I thought it was OK, but I'm not the one you need to be worrying about."

She pauses for a moment contemplating this.

"Do you think he had fun?" she asks him.

He wants to hurt her, but he knows there's no point in starting something.

"He probably had a little fun."

She frowns again; he thinks she's coming back to her normal self. She's not drunk; she just had a little too much to drink. But after all that's what bachelorette parties are for. They are silent again, but it's no longer awkward. It's how it used to be.

"I never meant to hurt you."

He's shocked at her words. He thinks now maybe she is drunk. He can never tell with her.

"It happens."

"It shouldn't have."

"But it does," he remarks.

"You deserved better," she adds.

She's not going to let this go. The night before her wedding, the night before she pledges her eternal love she's sitting out on the balcony of a four star hotel with her ex-boyfriend apologizing for what went wrong in their relationship.

"You deserved at least an explanation, someone maybe who had enough balls to care about whether or not you knew the whole situation –"

Something inside of him snapped. The air was thick with emotion.

"You don't' get it do you? I'm not good enough for you, can't you just come out and say it already. I know it, you know it. Let's just put it out there. Put this to rest already. God damn it Rory, you were always too good for me. There was nothing – nobody was ever better than you. I just wasn't worthy enough to hold onto you."

She sits there motionless. It takes minutes for it to soak through.

"Jess," she says quietly, "that's not true."

"I don't fit into your life, never have never will."

"You're hallucinating."

"Why can't you just accept this? I have."

"Jess stop!"

He shuts his mouth. But there's more.

"Rory, you're getting married. Tomorrow the rest of your life starts. A life without me."

"I thought we were friends. I will see you around."

"Around where, Rory? You say that now and maybe for the first month or so I will see you. You'll stop by but eventually you won't have time to come by. You'll have too many obligations. So maybe you'll start calling once a week to check up on things. And then eventually the calls will stray to once a month and before long you'll be saying 'Jess? Jess who?' "

"That's not true," she says as she bites back tears.

"Just give in, reality is about to set in Rory. You and I are living in different worlds."

"Stop it. I still care about you."

He stops. He wants to hear her say more about how much she cares for him, but it would just make him weaker, knowing he can't have her.

"Rory don't."

"No Jess. It's my turn. Do you know how it feels to look your fiancée in the eye and feel absolutely no passion at all? If he died, I wouldn't regret it. I wouldn't shed one tear. I think about you everyday. Every single hour, Jess. Not a day goes by I wonder what would have happened, if I was with you. I messed up and now I'm dealing with the consequences."

He stands up and throws his arms up into the air.

"God Rory!" he says as he kicks the patio chair.

She shutters and then stands up. He's breathing heavy and she's staring at him intently. She grabs his hand and places it on her heart. Her heart beat is rapid. She places his hands around her waist and she grabs his neck. She hugs him. He kisses the top of her head. Her hair smells incredible. She rests her head on her shoulder.

"I still love you…" she whispers into his ear.

He chokes for a moment. The lump in his throat gets bigger. She doesn't regret her words for once. He pushes her away.

"You should leave. You have a big day ahead of you."

Her face drops. She isn't going to let him have this.

"Tell me not to do it," she says to him.

"Do what?"

"Leave and get married."

"You don't want to leave poor Derek waiting do ya?"

"Don't act like this," she says.

"Like what, Rory?"

"Like you don't care about me."

"What the hell do you want me to tell you?"

"The truth, for once."

"I did."

"Don't do this."

"Rory, I'm not doing anything."

"I know you miss me."

"You think very highly of yourself don't you?"

She takes another step towards him barely 2 inches from his body.

"Look me straight in the eye and tell me you don't love me."

He looks her in the eye.

"I don't - care about you," he stammers.

"That's not what I asked."

"I do not love you," he says monotone.

She steps back and he can see tears forming in her eyes. He looks away. He can't stand himself right now. But he has to do this, he has to move on. She has to get married in the morning. She turns around and heads toward the door. Slamming it hard. He follows her through the sliding door. She's gathering her things. A purse and light jacket. He watches her motionless, run through the door and out of his life.


	8. I'd say all the words that I know

He thinks he might go blind. There must be thousands. Hundreds of thousands of flowers. White flowers, to be exact. They're everywhere. He sits off to the side, in the groom's tent. It's nearly two hours until she commits herself to the death sentence. He, himself, is contemplating suicide. Derek and the 2 other groomsmen, Dumb and Dumber, are desperately hung over. Dumb is eating every piece of food in sight, Jess thinks he soon might start eating the flowers, there's enough to go around. While Dumber looks like he's ready to heave at any time. Jess thanks God he doesn't drink in-groups otherwise he'd be worse off than all three of them.

The tuxes are handmade, stitched from the finest materials imported from Italy. He finds them uncomfortable. It's humid out, and he can almost feel himself melting. The bridesmaids rush in and out helping the men look their best. They seem ditzy, he thinks Rory's kicked them out, that's why they're not helping her instead. Finally he has enough of it and leaves the tent. Guests are arriving. He sees a few familiar faces but no one he wants to give the time of day. He finds his best friend: the bartender. He figures he should start early anyway. There's no point in staying sober during the whole ceremony. But something stops him. Something she said. "I care about you". God damn it, Rory. Why does she always do this to him, he thinks. Oh ya, because he loves her.

x . . x

She has a horrible headache. She can barely remember last night, only bits and pieces. Mostly she remembers the pieces she's likely to want to forget. There's perhaps half an hour before she has to walk down the aisle. Her dress feels like poison seeping into her skin. She doesn't care that it cost almost as much as her Yale tuition. She can't even believe something so stupid could cost that much. She looks in the mirror and she hates herself. She finds herself particularly ugly. The first thing she'll do is get a nose job. Just a small change. The thoughts flood her head. Then she laughs at her insane visions. Unfortunately it's only the beginning.

She turns around as she hears the tent flap open. She covers herself quickly. It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. They don't need any more bad luck. But it's not the groom.

"Are you lost?" she asks him.

Her bitterness bites at him, but then he smirks, and then he looks at the look of genuine disgust on her face and frowns.

"No, I…well…Rory…" he starts.

"Jess, look in about 20 minutes you and I are just going to become a distance memory. Anything you said last night or even last year isn't going to matter. So unless it's an emergency situation I think you should just either wait or let it go."

He looks down at his shoes. She makes him nervous. She's growing up, without him. He realizes for the first time when he looks up that she's in her wedding dress. Her hair is in curls pulled back in a loose bun that hangs low by her neck. A few strategically placed curls fall gently on her soft skin and entwined into her hair are small pink rose buds. He thinks he's in heaven and she's his angel. Her dress hugs her chest and stomach tightly and eventually puffs out. Her shoulders are bare and her dress shimmers in the dim lighting. He knows right then that he will never be able to be with her. He can't, he thinks to himself. She's letting go he might as well. Any reconciliation would be useless. He turns to leave.

"Jess?"

He turns back towards her.

"Ya?"

"I meant everything I said last night. And I just hope that one day you'll forgive me for putting you in a situation like that. I know it was very inappropriate."

His heart breaks. He wants her so badly. Doesn't she realize she's the only thing that makes him work. The only thing he has _ever_ really wanted. He hates her all of the sudden. She's playing games with him, he thinks. It's not very funny. He doesn't say anything to her, part of him doesn't want to give her the satisfaction and part of him just doesn't know what to say. He regrets what he said yesterday. Maybe if he had said the right thing they wouldn't be here right now. They could be together, alone. Forever. Stupid ass hole, he thinks to himself. Why do you always have to fuck everything up? She watches his eyes. Go from her to his hands to the ground. And again. And again. He turns to leave again. But something instead him, stops his feet from moving any father. He turns towards her again.

"Your eyes glitter when you know something someone else doesn't, but you're too nice to point it out. "

Her eyes stare at him intently.

"Jess, don't…"

"Your voice gets high when you're mad," he says over her.

She feels her stomach drop.

"Your right eye twitches when you're telling a big lie."

"Jess, stop…"

"You can't cook and you're happiest with a burger and a cup of coffee."

"Jess!"

"You let your hair fall into your eyes just so that I can push it back."

"I do not –"

"You can't stand in when I fall asleep first."

"Well I –"

"You can't stand my grammar and when I write something you always correct it."

"I am not-"

"You try to pick fights with me over the simplest things."

"That's not –"

"And you wanna know the real reason why I love you? Rory, damn, you make me the happiest guy in the whole freakin world."

"Jess, Stop!" she says to him as tears flood from her eyes. "I swear to god if you say anything else…"

"You'll what? Hurt me? You've done enough of that."

Suddenly the flap of the tent opens again and Ditzy Bridesmaid #2 enters.

"Uh – Rory, it's time," she says looking questioningly at the suspicious duo.

"Thanks Katherine, just give me a minute," she replies.

The tent closes and they are left alone again.

"Jess, you had your chance. I had my chance. We just never want the same thing at the same time. Please, do not make this any harder for me than it already is."

He shakes his head, disgusted at her, himself. He wants to rip her wedding dress off of her right now. He can't though and it's killing him.

"So, if you'll excuse me I have to get married."

A/N: Sorry that was utterly and completely fluffy! And no worries, there will not be any cheesy "I object" scenes, those are so cliché. I'll update this weekend I promise, updates weren't coming because I had a HUGE AP history test but I'm done and can spend more time on my story. Thank you to all of you who reviewed.


	9. Just to see if it would show

Jess sinks back in his chair, cradling a whiskey on the rocks in one hand, and his bowtie in the other. He looks around at the empty tables around him. Most are out by the band dancing – excuse me – trying to dance. He watches with contempt as young bodies grind against each other and elders twirl each other in circles. He rolls his eyes then tilts his head back and pours the truth serum (aka alcoholic beverage) down his throat. It burns and for a moment he almost coughs at it but then regains his composure and slams the glass back down onto the silked table. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her smiling face, as the damn bastard twirls her oh-so-gracefully around the dance floor. He tilts her back and the rest of the dancers step back adoringly. Owing and Awing at the "Happy" Newlywed couple. It's almost too sickening for him. He glances up for a clock, but sees nothing but gold chandeliers. He laughs, sarcastically of course, at the fact that some place so expensive doesn't even have clock. What does a clock cost? Like 5 bucks for a damn clock. The music ends and Jess explodes up from his chair, thankful for some quiet for once.

"Ladies and Gentlemen."

God damn it.

"Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Derek Humphrey Please can we have a round of applause for the newlyweds?"

The crowd surrounding the couple closes in on them in a thunderous ovation. And then he gets the better of himself and looks at her. She's beautiful of course, and for once in a long time she smiles. A real smile and it just about breaks Jess' heart. Then a slow song comes on and he watches as they slowly rock back and forth to the slow beat. The song plays on and he remembers it all too vividly. He remembers holding her to that very song. He thought it was corny at the time and even now he still does, but to him it felt so right. It was them, both of them together, him and her and he had never felt so in touch with someone. He shakes the memory from his head and tries to dispose of it entirely but unfortunately for him, he can't like many things concerning her, get rid of it. He watches her some more, stuck in the awe of her beauty and the jealous that flows through him. Her eyes flick past him at first and he thinks she's trying to ignore him, but then they're eyes meet and while Derek still tries to twirl her, her eyes stick to Jess. She glances at him and he loses it. He looks away because he can no longer handle being around her. He has to be honest with himself now and face the eventual fact that she's married and will no longer have any chance to be how it once was. Before he kept telling her it, but never fully believed it himself – but now it's become quite clear to him. He makes his way through the seemingly hundreds of tables and walks outside. He fumbles for a cigarette hoping that in his pre-wedding hysteria he remembered to hide one. But lest he finds he didn't.

"Cigarette?" a voice perks up from behind him. He turns around to see a thin woman, perhaps 10 years his senior, draped in a dark red dress, thrusting a cigarette in his direction. He nods at her and she hands it to him. He takes it, placing it in his mouth, while she simultaneously takes out a lighter and lights it for him.

"Thanks," he says blowing out a breath of smoke. She just nods with him. They stand there both sucking the life out of their cigarettes in silence.

"Bride or Groom?" the woman finally says catching Jess off guard.

"What?"

"Are you a friend of the bride or the groom?" she asks as if he was slow.

"Neither," he says inhaling the smoke around him again, relishing in the solitude it brings him.

She laughs suddenly, a high pitched screech that makes Jeff snap out of his serenity.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"Well," she begins, "you must be someone's friend. You're in the wedding party."

He sighs

"I'm the ex-boyfriend."

Intrigue covers her face and Jess chuckles as she leans forward inviting him to tell her his story.

"So what happened between you two?" she asks curiously.

He finishes the last of his cigarette and throws it onto the ground, smothering it with his polished dress shoes into the cement.

"Look this isn't some high school gossip bullshit and while I admire you now because you gave me the best fucking cigarette of my life, I'm not going to repeat my whole life story to you."

The woman slightly stunned at first, just shrugs and takes a step back from him. He turns back to head inside.

"I heard she was a bitch anyway," she says exhaling slowly.

He stops in his track and turns toward her. Intrigued that she has his attention, she goes on.

"The word on the street is that she was cheating on him with some scumbag loser she grew up with. Thing was she never really wanted to marry Derek but she did it for her grandparents. She's miserable I guess, wouldn't have never known it from that act she's putting on with him in there. Turns out she's still in love with that hometown trash of hers. You know him?" she asks.

Now, it takes just about every fiber of his moral strength to just clench his fists and not reach out and grab her throat. But he remembers not to take what she says at face value.

"Nope," he lies to her.

The woman just nods her head.

"Well, we should probably go back in, don't think they'll send a search party out for us," she says turning towards the door and holding it open for him.

"Not me," he says and with that she walks in alone and let's the door slam.

He walks out onto the sidewalk and just keeps walking, not really knowing or caring about his exact destination.

Author Note: Hey there! Thank you to all of the wonderful people that have responded, I adore all of you. I'm having a little bit of trouble coming up with the next chapter so any suggestions would be extremely appreciated. Should this be the end :-/ You can email me or postit as a review. Also suggestions for other stories would also be appreciated. Thanx!


	10. That I'm tryin to let you know

The bar across from his infamous bookshop has become his secret garden. Not that it hasn't been all his life, but he finds that no one cares about him in there. The bartender, Mick, and him are on a first name basis. Which he finds thrilling to the fact that he can swipe free beers whenever Mick's in a good mood. Sometimes, even when Jess isn't too deep into his depressive state, they swap stories. Mick used to be in the war. He has stories, tons of them. He knows Mick's leg was broken five times, and his thumb twice. He knows that Mick watched his best friend die right in front of him. He knows that Mick's mom lives 6 blocks away from him in a "cranberry red" house. And, he knows that Mick had a Rory.

"She was beautiful. Ya know? The kind you absolutely know you should stay away from, but don't of course, because you're thinking with the wrong part of your body," Mick tells him.

Jess nods and holds up his drink to his lips. Swishes back the substances and listens again.

"Her name was Megan. Ya, we were Megan and Mick. She always thought it was cute, one of the few things she did love about me. We were together for five years. Then she just breaks it off, had to go into the war ya know, and I wrote her everyday. Every single day that I could. Sometimes I wrote twice a day. I think it was the way she laughed ya know. It was the most beautiful sound I ever heard. And when I come back? I find out she married some fuckin rich kid snob."

Jess looks quite intrigued. He looks at Mick, and somehow sees a little of himself in him. Something which makes his stomach a little queasy.

"So I became a drunkard."

"Over some girl?" Jess asks.

Mick eyes him carefully.

"She wasn't just some girl, Jay. She was it."

"So that's it?"

"Well if you would just let me finish my damn story…"

Jess rolls his eyes, but realizes that for the first time in a long time, or maybe ever. He really respects someone. Mick, he finds, is quite enduring.

"So, I say alright, this girl means everything to me, right? So what do I have to do? Well I go to her house, ya know and she completely makes an asshole out of me, right there in front of her cock of a husband. So I decide to write her one last letter ya know. So I do, no return address or anything. I sent it to her, a week later, who do I find on my doorstep?" he says smiling.

"Megan," Jess answers.

"Wouldn't that have been lovely? But no, it's the crackhead husband. Turns out he opened it, instead of her and somehow traced it back to me. So he tells me to stay away from his wife, he even pays me to stay away. I take the money of course…"

"- But I thought you loved her…."

"Kid, you really need to know when to listen and when to shut up. That's what I was getting to...So anyway I take the money with every intention of seeing her again. Turns out I wouldn't have to do a lot. Next day I find her with 3 suitcases on my front porch. She told me she was stupid, naïve and extremely in love with me, I agreed that she was all of those. We spent 10 wonderful years together. Then…well, she had heart problems. Ya know, she was so strong though, I swear sometimes I think she would have made it through. But she died, my mother practically cried for joy, hated Megan with a passion. But I learned to survive, opened up my own damn bar so I could fucking drink whenever I wanted to."

"Nice story," Jess says somewhat sarcastically.

"Boy, I didn't tell you this story, so that you could berate it. I told you it because you need some sense knocked into you."

"What are you talking about?"

"What's her name? Roseanna, Robin, Rita…"

"Rory," Jess pipes out.

"Ya, well she's the reason you're in here right?"

Jess just nods.

"Well, you know what you gotta do."

Jess looks up at him with uncertain eyes and Mick just sighs.

"I thought you were smart, obviously I need to work on my people skills….You need to tell her how you feel."

Jess snorts at this. "You don't think I've tried. I've been turned down enough and I don't want to fucking feel that way again, if you don't mind. Besides she hates me, she never wants to see my face again."

Mick stares at him for a while, contemplating whether or not he really is learning disabled.

"That's just the point, you dumbass. Girls are fickle, they never know what they want until you tell them. They're smart though, they can drive a man absolutely crazy."

"So tell me Mick," Jess starts sarcastically, "what do I have to do to get her."

He's only kidding, he tells himself. Well, only partly.

"You've got to realize that some things are just worth going after. Sometimes you gotta be the dumbass, to be the winner."

Jess contemplates this slowly. Mick seeing this starts in again.

"If you can't tell her how you feel, show her, or better yet…write her. If you don't do something you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Even if it's to let her go, Jay, you got to tell her."

"Mick you're fucking crazy," he tells him.

Mick just nods, agreeing with Jess, because really what's the use arguing about it.

"It's called closure. Just do it," he tells Jess.

And for once in a long time, Jess actually listens.


	11. That I'm better off on my own

The poem is courtesy of The Notebook. Now on with the story….

She wakes up and finds herself feeling thoroughly refreshed. Her head hurts slightly, she thinks that shouting at Derek has something to do with it. But she doesn't ponder long about it, what's the use? She rolls, literally, out of bed, making sure not to disturb him, the less confrontation the better. She finds her way to the kitchen, asks the maid generously for a cup of strong coffee and gets one. She finds her way to the dinner table and places herself in front of a copy of the New York Times.

"Miss, the mail is here."

"Thank you very much Sylvia."

Sylvia looks at her suspiciously, obviously not used to being called by her true name. And scurries away after setting the envelopes down in front of Mrs. Humphrey.

She sits staring at the newspaper. She's bored already and it's only 7 o'clock in the morning. Who knew the sky was even bright this early in the morning? Her eyes wander towards the pile of envelopes. Normally she would have jumped at the mail, but she's learned not to expect anything good out of it. However, her boredom and curiosity get the better of her. She finds the first, a letter to her from the DAR group, inviting her for a formal luncheon. Her eyes scan it looking for the details, and then she throws it off to the side, thoroughly bored at it. The second one addressed to her is a receipt from a book shop, the sum totals $178. Something she would have once scoffed at, now seems reasonable. The last letter addressed to her has no return address and at once she becomes suspicious but all together more intrigued by it. She opens it carefully and pulls out the letter. She smiles at the first line and then continues on

_I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough. But I've learned that to indeed, truly live I must do what's right. I'm letting this go, because that's what's right._

She remembers these lines. She remembers sitting in his apartment watching those sappy "chick flicks" that she had always rolled her eyes at. But for once she had decided to endure one. She remembers watching the man look into the woman's eyes and say those things. Things most guys don't have enough guts or even heart to say. She's never been a hopeless romantic or anything of that sort, but she doesn't know any woman that wouldn't love a man to say those things to them. He had, rolled his eyes. Bad boys don't cry during romance movies. But she thought she had seen a glimmer in his eyes, not crying of course, just something serene and beautiful. He would never admit it; he'd rather die than admit he'd actually liked the movie. They got Thai instead of Chinese that night because she had supposedly owed him for "making" him sit through that "shit" but she knew better. Somehow she always knew better.

x.x.x

He likes to look out the windows because somehow it always makes him feel better. The bus is slow, and sometimes unfortunately his patience wears thin. The woman behind him, he learns, is running away from her ex-husband, the abuser, to be with a man at least 10 years younger than her. The man sitting next to him has a nasty habit of falling asleep right on Jess' shoulders. Normally this would bother him so much he would flick, poke and even stab the man until he learned that his shoulder was a much more comfortable place than Jess'. But somehow he had changed. Jess didn't know where or when or even why he changed. But somehow he knew deep down he was a different person. He knew, among other things, that it was also because of her. He also knew that as soon as the bus stopped he would head straight down to the boardwalk and greet Jimmy. He would proceed to tell him everything, every last detail. Because he was family and family is always there for you, even when you least expect it.

He enjoys Sasha's stories and Jimmy's banter. He enjoys it so much sometimes he'll just lay back and watch them. They fight, more often that he'd like, but he realizes this is normal. It's a part of love, a deeper more passionate side that some people mistake for true loathing. He calls her, because now he only thinks of her sometimes. They talk for a while and mostly she sounds genuinely happy to see him. They don't reminisce or wonder about each other, at least not over the phone. And when he hangs up for the first time in his life, he feels like he finally did something right.

The End

Author Note: I'm soooo very very sorry to leave you like this. But if I put them together it would be very out of proportion and do you really think in real life it would have worked out? I think not. So therefore I'm leaving it this way. This is my first fan fiction. So thank you to everyone who reviewed and everyone who enjoyed it. I've learned my lesson though, serious lits are depressing! Thank you everyone and please review!


	12. Alternate Ending

A/N: I decided to include a happy ending because some readers pointed out that this is FICTION after all, so even though I don't think it could ever work out this way (though I wish it would), this is how I picture just one of their many reunions. And a little _cheesy_ I must say….So if you have any suggestions as to what the last lines of this should be, if you could drop a line that would be fabulous ;) – There will probably be many different edits of this alone the way

Disclaimer #2 : I do not own THE NOTEBOOK (just can't get enough of it) quotes (the italics half way down) – and I do not have $...ta da. So on with the story shall we:)

Her head is aching as she rolls out of bed. But then again she thinks yelling with Derek has something to do with it. Her honeymoon, she once imagined would be exotic, invigorating and somewhat exciting, but for the most part it had been quite dull. They had barely spoken a word to each other the whole trip. Of course no words are usually needed on a Honeymoon.

There is nothing wrong with Derek in bed. She had always considered him quite apt and able, but she realized with a sunken heart that he was no Jess. The moment of realization had occurred right in the very middle of lovemaking, because there were no sparks, no mind-blowing acts and above all she felt no need whatsoever to even touch him afterwards. She had been so disgusted that she fell asleep immediately afterwards. Once home, they had barely been in the same room together let alone even spoken or god forbid slept together. He had always taken his meals in his study and their marriage did not wreck this habit. So she was left to sit at the long dining room table alone, in the midst of countless empty chairs. Twice already she had been near tears, and had already confided in the maid, Sylvia, about her problems. Why pay more money for the therapist when you have a perfectly good listener waiting on you hand and foot?

She pulls the door shut careful not to wake him, for she can barely stand him enough when he is sleeping let alone when he's awake. The clock in the hall strikes 10 solid beats and she realizes with an earnest heart that they've overslept. She comes in the dining room, in her solid red robe, hair unruly as ever, and sets herself down at the head of the table. A groan comes from her stomach and she realizes she hasn't eaten for over twelve hours. Sylvia comes rushing in.

"What can I get you for breakfast, Ma'am?"

She looks up at the maid and shakes her head quite roughly.

"Sylvia, how many times have I told you, you can call me Rory, just as long as _he_'s not around?"

The maid smiles timidly at her, happy to be involved in anything no matter how petit it may be.

"Right – Rory, what would you like for breakfast?"

"How about scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, toast, pancakes, - oh yes, and a gallon of coffee."

Sylvia gives her an unsure look and Rory smiles at her.

"A cup will do."

The maid nods and scurries into the kitchen. Alone once again, she wraps her robe around herself even tighter. She gets up from her seated position and goes out to fetch the mail. She opens the door and walks out into the warm July day. Now and only now, does she realize how particularly ridiculous she must look. She looks down at her robe and fingers her hair and laughs appreciatively at herself. If only Derek could see her now, he would throw an absolute fit. She grabs the newspaper sitting outside and fetches the mail in her other hand.

She walks back inside, dirty feet and all. She finds her seat once again at the head of the table and spreads the paper out onto the tablecloth. Then files through the mail, trying to flip the ones not addressed to her into the flower vase, in the middle of the table, but missing terribly. This, she reminds herself, is why she never played sports. She then rifles through the ones addressed to her. One looks like junk, the other is from the DAR group, perhaps inviting her to another luncheon. The last one lies in front of her, but scrawled on top in tiny, imprecise handwriting is _do not open until tonight_. Curiosity seeps over her, but suddenly it hits her, she knows that handwriting. She could recognize it a mile away, considering every time she reads one of her books, it pops up on every other page. She sets it down, contemplating what this means. She's not quite sure. Actually she has no idea, and cusses slightly under her breath at him for doing this once again to her. She thought she let go of this, obviously not. She shoves it off to the side, trying to forget it, and does slightly as Sylvia comes back out with steaming plates of hot food. She sets a plate in front of the mistress. Suddenly she feels extremely lonely.

"Is that all miss – I mean, Rory?" she says a small smiling creeping over her face.

"Sylvia, have you eaten today?" she asks her.

The maid gives a quick shake of her head.

"Well, there's enough food here for a small army, which means I can eat half but there will be a lot left over. Would you like to eat with me?"

Sylvia practically jumps up for joy at this offer.

"Just let me get a plate and I would be happy to eat with you."

They sit down to a nice meal and she no longer feels lonely, or the least bit curious.

Derek does finally wake up and he finds that work must take him away from her. He showers and dresses without so much as a word to her, but seeing this no longer shocks her. He leaves later than usual which means he won't be home until nearly the midmorning hours. She finds solitude in their library; it is the one room in their house he hasn't taken over yet. She eats and talks with Sylvia some more, she even calls her mother to dish the very little dirt there is from the honeymoon. Her grandmother stops by for her weekly check-up. And as she leaves, for once she wishes her grandmother would just stay but somehow the words don't formulate in her mouth. Her books are among her only friends it seems and only occasionally does she go outside that day. The letter that had once peaked her curiosity is still strewn to the side, left by Sylvia, purposefully on the corner of the table.

The day draws on and as she begins to feel tired, she thinks she might go to bed early, seeing as that she has nothing to look forward to in the morning. She gets up from her seat in the parlor and walks to the staircase with every intention of heading upstairs. But suddenly something inside her stops her. Her insides start to squirm suddenly and for a moment she thinks she's sick. She puts her hand around her stomach and out of sheer habit reaches up to her heart to check her pulse and finds that it's rather rapid. She seats herself on the steps and suddenly has the odd feeling her conscience is trying to tell her something. Her insides suddenly feel normal and her heartbeat falls into its normal rhythm, and she instinctively looks around. But she still has a feeling, something nagging at her. She looks at the door and suddenly becomes curious, that little voice inside of her is telling her to open the door. She thinks she must be going crazy, going crazy over a damn door; Derek would have a field day if she ever told him about it. She gets up and looks to see if Sylvia is around, because she doesn't want to look crazy to anyone else other than herself. Her hand reaches for the shiny silver knob and she turns it. Pulling it towards her she gasps at the sight before her.

He stands in front of her. One arm has a number of pieces of paper, and the other is reaching up as if to knock on the door. Her breathe catches itself in the basin of her throat and her stomach truly begins to feel queasy. She fingers the delicate fabric of her silk nighty and suddenly feels increasingly naked, even though she's completely covered. His jacket hangs off of him and his hair (as usual) is in sexy disarray. Neither of them says anything; both just stare at each other. They both have questioning looks, him because he wonders how she knew to open the door and her wondering why he's there.

She knows she technically doesn't need to be the one to speak, not in proper etiquette rules nor in Jess's rules, but she figures she doesn't have time to play stupid mind games with him, or more likely she does have the time, she would just rather get straight to the point.

She opens her mouth to speak but he places a finger over her lips, surprising her immensely. He takes the sheets of paper and sets them down in front of him. He bends down to pick up a sheet and scrawled across it, in his very own chicken-scratch reads: _I've never been good with words, you know this_.

She reads it and looks back up at him with a questioning look. He puts the piece of paper down and reaches to the next one, holding it up in front of her: _So here it goes:_ _It's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard._

All she does, to this, is wrap her nighty around her tighter.

He picks up the next piece: _We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. _

She puts her hand up to her mouth slightly moved by his words, for a moment she feels flustered.

He reaches for another paper and holds it in front of her: _I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day._

Tears start to slightly form in the corner of her eyes and for a moment she doesn't know what to do or think and instinctively she backs away from him.

He reaches once again, for a piece: _I need you because…I love you. You complete me._

He takes his hand and wipes the tears out of the corner of her eyes and cups her chin in his hand before he takes another step back.

He holds up another sheet for her: _All I ever wanted was to be with you. I can be everything you need. Let me prove it to you._

She catches her breath slowly and looks up at him, his eyes are shining at her and his mouth is curved into a genuine smile. She can't help but smile back at him and then she does it. She nods her head to him. She releases every misjudgment and imperfection she loves about him. She signs her life to him and she loves the feeling. His smile turns into a full on heart-felt grin, like a little boy on Christmas morning, feeling that he got the best present of all.

He stoops down to gather the papers in front of him. She watches him closely unsure of what she's supposed to do now. Her heart is beating rapidly in her chest almost as though she's sure she won't be able to breath within minutes, but she's exaggerating of course. Then without so much as a glance back towards her, he leaves her, standing in the doorway.

"Jess!"

He doesn't turn around, nor does he say anything. He just keeps walking.

She shuts the door clearly puzzled, yet entirely giddy at the sight of him. She turns around and lets out a low shriek. Sylvia stands right in front of her, at the foot of the steps.

"You scared me," she says breathlessly.

The maid takes a step closer.

"I'm sorry Ma'am. Here you go," Sylvia says handing the letter from the morning to her.

She takes the note in her hand and looks up suspiciously at Sylvia, wondering exactly what's happening.

"You know what this is?" she asks the maid.

She nods.

"Yes ma'am it's from that man. He came by this morning and told me to only let you open it if you said yes."

"Yes to what?"

"Yes to him ma'am," as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And you said yes, so you get to open the letter."

She does as she's told and in her hand she holds a train ticket. She nearly drops it, astonished at the sight of it. She smiles though, because in her hand she holds the key to all her future.

"Sylvia, I need to pack," she says.

The maid nods and both scurry into the bedroom. The maid flings the suitcase out from under the bed and Rory throws things from her closet on the bed. Normally it would take her hours to pack and think out everything, but now she was running entirely on adrenaline and plus she didn't have the time.

"Ma'am, if I might say, I think this is very romantic."

Rory smiles, mid-packing and stops.

"You're right, it really is romantic."

"I wish I could find my very own…"

"Jess. His name is Jess."

"Well, I wish I could find my very own Jess."

"It'll be exactly when and where you least expect it. But it'll happen Sylvia, I just know it."

They both pack quietly thinking different thoughts together. Then suddenly something she never thought of hits her.

"Derek…"

"What about him ma'am?"

"Do you know when he's coming home?"

"Yes, ma'am, he said that he would like dinner on the table at 10 o'clock for him."

She nods and continues packing various objects, most aren't needed, but others she put together with thoughtless effort.

When she's finally packed she looks around the room and finds that she has very few possessions at all, most are symbolic of her and Derek. Frankly she'd rather leave these things, than take them with her.

"Is that it ma'am?" she asks as she lugs the suitcase down the steps right to the front of the door.

"I think so," she tells the maid. Then something strikes her rather rapidly. She walks over to the study in the adjoining room and scrawls a few parting remarks on a sheet of paper, places it promptly in front of his desk.

"Ma'am your taxi is here," she yells.

Rory returns to the hall, walks outside and watches as the taxi driver loads her suitcase into the back.

"Where to ma'am?" he asks.

"Train station."

He nods at her and goes inside the car.

She turns to Sylvia, all smiles.

"Thank you for everything," she says, embracing the fragile and surprised maid in a sincere hug.

"You're welcome ma'am."

"Rory. Remember its Rory."

The maid smiles watching as she climbs into the back seat and the cab pulls out of the driveway. She watches the car speed away and they both wave at each other. Her heart breaks a little realizing she's leaving probably the only friend she's ever had for a while.

"Goodbye Rory," Sylvia says softly, smiling and turning to go back inside, where she would await the outburst that would almost be inevitable once the Mister came home.

She watches the landscape pass her by and realizes how truly large the world is. It never quite occurred to her, how far the land stretched. She plays with the ring on her finger, making the sudden realization that she's still wearing it. The man seated next to her, is bald and thin. His nervousness is apparent from the large beads of seat on his forehead and she can not help but quietly smirk at him. When some people are nervous they tend to be quiet and non-talkative. He was not one of these people.

"That's a very nice ring," he tells her, watching her play with it.

She removes it from her finger.

"You want it?" she asks him. He looks at her, trying to find out whether or not she's kidding. But she's neither smirking nor smiling. She's of course only half kidding. He doesn't say anything so she places it in her pocket.

"You know I'm meeting this girl in New York," he tells her, leaning into her, but not seductively. "We've been dating for almost two years. The thing is she keeps saying she wants to have kids and settle down. But I don't know- I mean obviously I love her, but still, it's such a commitment…"

He goes on for most of the trip, until even he feels too tired for words.

After many stops along the way, the train finally arrives, mid-morning, in the train station. She gets off the train rather quickly considering she's barely had 4 hours of sleep. Suddenly she feels extremely alone, realizing that no one is there she knows and she doesn't have any clue as to where she's supposed to go.

She makes her way down the platform off to the escalator. Slowly moving down them, she finally sees him in all his glory. His jeans are slightly faded, and his hair is standing on end. His shirt hangs on him, a soft black button-up. Her favorite.

She steps off the escalator and suddenly she feels like a shy teenager standing in front of her crush. He takes a step towards her. She steps up in front of him and they're barely a foot apart just staring at each other. She notices his hand is behind is back, he watches her eyes trace his body up and down. He takes the object from behind him and in his hand he gives her a single red rose. She gasps softly at him taking it, and staring at him carefully. He takes his hand and places it around her waist, pulling her towards him even more. She looks up at him putting her hands around his neck.

"Thanks for the rose," she says softly.

"No problem."

They stare at each other carefully still, each grinning like little kids.

"You're not going to turn into a softy now are you?" she says teasingly.

He smiles at her, and suddenly any tension that had occurred was completely gone.

"Me? Nah."

He pulls her closer but she's the one that initiates the kiss. She realizes finally that this is how a kiss is supposed to taste. No guilt, no resentment, just happiness. She pulls away for a moment and he looks at her slightly worried she's having second thoughts.

"Hey Jess?" she says.

"Ya," he looks down at her worriedly.

She gulps slightly, unnoticeable to him.

"Don't let me go again."

He smiles at her words.

"I won't," he tells her.

He bends down to kiss her again but a loud applause goes on around them and they both look up for a moment and realize that there is a crowd of onlookers around them. A few whistles go around and finally some idiot yells "Just kiss her already."

They both laugh at the comment. He does kiss her and suddenly he forgets about everything else, but her.

A/N: I say screw realism for a moment because I was watching some old episodes with my boyfriend and I mean really they are meant to be with each other. Therefore I decided to create a happy ending. I'm also hoping to perhaps continue on after this in either a few more chapters or a sequel. Maybe I'll just stop here. Feedback on this would be greatly appreciated.


End file.
